The darn thing was made of real, honest to goodness rubber; a heady, pungent odor that took me back through the years. There I stood once again before...my mother's middle dresser drawer, happily extracting one of her bras to take away for my own use while the family was away for the day. It was a heavy duty, industrial strength garment, providing the kind of the support needed by Carrie Nation as she wielded her massive ax against a solid mahogany bar in a den of iniquity. Were it to be made of. Fun, fun, fun! ‘Too much work to get done,’ Julie replied to Greg. ‘Can’t let my new account down before we even get started, can I?’ Greg smiled, his eyes fixing on hers in a way that made her insides turn mushy. That arrogant prick! she thought. He knows he has me! ‘Well, I admire your dedication,’ he replied easily, his eyes still on hers. ‘I guess we’ll see you in the morning?’ ‘Briefly,’ Julie said, tearing her eyes away, hoping she hadn’t seemed like she was swooning or anything foolish. More

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